The Bus Stop Guy
by moseph
Summary: Every single day, I saw him standing there, waiting for a bus. Always with a cigarette dangling from his lips, always his hands tucked into his pockets. [One shot. Happy belated birthday, LegallyRed]


Ah, one shots. They're so fun. You know why? Because you don't have to worry about chapter names, updating, etc, etc. And this one is especially cool because it's a belated birthday present for my good friend, _LegallyRed_! ((applause)) Hit it boys!

**Jack: **They say it's your birthday!

**Newsies: **((air guitar)) BAH NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH!

**Jack: **Happy birthday to ya!

**Newsies: **((more air guitar)) BAH NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH!

Alright, guys, that's enough. People came here to read a fic, not to listen to you play air guitar. Besides, I can't remember the rest of the words, at the moment. So, ladies, on the fic. Happy birthday, Elphie! ((hugs))

* * *

Every single day, I saw him standing there, waiting for a bus. Always with a cigarette dangling from his lips, always his hands tucked into his pockets. In the winter, there he was, ankle deep in snow, wearing a warm-looking black pea coat (and making me jealous, since all I had was a very uncool fluorescent ski jacket). In the fall and spring, there he was, this time wearing a worn, brown suede jacket that made him look like the hottest cowboy I'd ever seen. In the summer, there he was, wearing broken-in jeans and a faded vintage t-shirt. Always with that cigarette, too. Smoking's gross and I'd never do it. But on him, he looked so hot, so bad ass. Like...James Dean. So, naturally, I always looked forward to our wordless not-really-a-meeting meetings.

On this bleak day in March, the world seems to have stopped. I walk to school and look for him at the bus stop (the only reason I don't get my mom to drive me). He's not there. I feel like the sky has fallen. My whole beliefs system has gone haywire. He's never not been there before. He never missed the 7:15 bus in the history of, well, me seeing him there every morning. I quell disappointment and keep on walking.

By the time I get to school, I'm not depressed so much as curious. Was there a death in the family? Was he sick? Did he get fired? Okay, I realize that I've never actually spoken to him and I don't know his name, so you might call this obsessive behaviour. But, God damn it, I want to know. I catch up with my friends at Dave's locker, where we all tend to congregate since Dave's slower than molasses.

"So what does he look like? Tall? Short? Blond? Brunette?" Michelle inquires Dave excitedly. "Just, you know, so I can keep an eye out for him."

"What are you talking about?" I ask, confused.

"Dave's friend. He's transferring," Danielle says casually. She's not half as excited as Michelle, but then, Michelle has a bit of a hormone _overdose_. And, of course, Michelle's been boyfriend hunting since she was a child. Danielle's one of the few, the lucky, the attached. Damn, I wish David would set _me_ up.

"Friend? What grade's he in?" I ask.

"Twelfth," David says, slamming his locker shut. "Transferred from Union."

"Well, I'll keep my eyes peeled for a new guy," I say, hiking my backpack up further on my shoulder. We weave our way between people, trying to get to our usual lounging spot in the atrium by the main stairs. By the time we make it there, it's already crowded with "we're-not-really-popular-but-we-like-to-think-we-are" kids.

"What the hell?" Michelle cries. "Aren't they usually in the pit?"

"They're retiling the pit, apparently," David replies, pointing to a sign that confirms this. After much scouting, we settle in by the music room. I look at my watch anxiously. I've never really liked vocal(I took it on a whim) and it's not the best class to have first thing in the morning, but I mentioned Idina Menzel yesterday when we were discussing "talented vocalists" and Ms. Sanderson asked me to bring in the Wicked soundtrack to play for the class. So, naturally, I'm excited. I sigh. Still thirteen minutes until class starts.

"Hey Dave. I thought you were going to be in the..um..." a disembodied voice says. I don't bother to look up; I'm busy studying the liner notes of the Wicked soundtrack that I've read twenty billion times and _nothing_ comes between me and Fiyero. Not even this new kid. Not to sound like a bitch, but most of Dave's friends are ugly, so he can wait.

"Atrium. It's full, in case you didn't notice," Dave's voice replies. Damn right, it's full. Damn those gangsta wannabe's and their skanky hos. I weep for our generation's lack of culture, individualism and brain cells. And for their chronic sheep syndrom.

"Yeah, thanks for the notification, buddy. What a great start to the first day. Now all the "gangstas" hate me. Fantastic." Ooh, I sense sarcasm. I look up to add to this and almost fall over from shock. Although, I don't know how that's possible, since I'm sitting, my back against the wall. I'm so shocked, I almost...fell to the side? That doesn't make much sense, what's a better - WHAT THE HELL AM I BABBLING ABOUT? Something like THIS happens and I'm mind-babbling about FALLING TO THE SIDE? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? I must have ADD or something...

"You!" I shout, pointing a finger at him. Ah, way to get back on track, ol' girl. Now, STAY ON IT! The new kid looks taken aback.

"Um...yeah?" he says unsurely.

"Red, what the hell are you talking about?" David asks, quirking an eyebrow. I stand up, abandoning my liner notes. Well, not abandoning them exactly, I mean, I could never do that to my Fiyero, I just set them aside for - THE TRACK, KATHY, THE TRACK!

"You! You're the guy at the bus stop!" I say excitedly, hoping I don't sound like a stalker. Because this guy is _hot_. Ryan Gosling hot. Aladdin hot. Fiyero hot. In other words, I think I'm about to faint from heat stroke. The B.S. guy (note to self: never shorten that again) doesn't look creeped out, more amused.

"By that, do you mean that I take the bus every morning?" he asks, with a small grin.

"Uh, yeah. I see you there every morning," I say, flushing to my roots. Now I _really_ sound like a stalker. He makes a sudden realisation face.

"Right! I see you there too! You always walk by while I'm waiting for the bus. What are you listening to?"

"What?"

"When you're waking to school. You're always listening to music and bobbing your head, mouthing the words. One time you even did a pelvic thrust." Wow, there goes any feeling of happiness that he recognized me.

"Oh. Well, usually, Wicked," I say, gesturing to the Wicked case. "But I've been known to switch it up a bit."

"Wicked, huh?" he asks, his grin widening. And then I almost faint from what he does next. He begins to sing, just quietly, "Somehow I've fallen under your spell and somehow I'm feeling it's up that I fell."

Oh. My. God.

I must look like I've gone into shock, because he says, "Um, that is Wicked, right? 'As Long As You're Mine'?" I nod dumbly. Okay, he's gorgeous, sarcastic and he can sing Wicked. Does the fact that I can't feel my right leg have anything to do with that? Alright, Kathy, words! Words would be good now!

"Um, yes. Yes it is," I say dumbly. Okay, _more_ words _might_ be good. "How did you know that?"

He shrugs. "My sister. She's obsessed." Hmm, I should talk to your sister. Oh, wait, no, I HAVE YOU! "My mom took me and Candace to see it a month ago because she wouldn't shut up about it. I'm not really into musicals, but it was pretty cool. I just remember that song because it was my favourite part. He totally should have been with Elphaba from the beginning." MARRY ME!

"Dude, I didn't know you were into musicals," Dave says, trying to interrupt our conversation. Shh, Dave, you're ruining the magic!

"I'm _not,_" he insists. "I just...I don't know, it was cool. Elphaba was really hot." I roll my eyes. Ah, he was entirely perfect until _that_. Oh well, no one's perfect. Okay, Kath, try to work yourself back into the conversation. Flatter him. Guys respond well to that.

"Well, that was awesome. You have a good voice. You'd make a great Fiyero," I say, grinning flirtatiously and, hopefully, subtly. He brushes his brown bangs out of his eyes and smiles sweetly.

"Huh, that's odd. You know, Kathy's nickname is Elphaba," Michelle says, her eyes darting between us, grinning like a woman with a plan.

"Shut up, Michelle," I mutter out of the side of my mouth. The guy takes no notice.

"Really? Well, who's Galinda?"

"That'd be me. It sucks that Fiyero dumped her though. They were the only good couple in the show," Michelle says. "But, uh, you know, Fiyero's not really my type," she adds hastily, shrivelling under my glare. "I always liked Boq. He and Galinda really should have gotten together."

"I thought I was Boq," David says frowning. Michelle begins to panic.

"I mean, uh, well - HEY, LOOK, A DOOR!" Michelle sprints off toward the door, likely heading to her first period geography class early as an escape from this beyond awkward moment. I smirk a little. Oh, poor, skittish Michelle.

"Well, maybe if your nickname is Elphaba, mine should be Fiyero," the guy continues, still grinning. Oh dear God, I love him. "You know, continuity."

"Sure. But, just so you know, I'll probably call you Yero, so be prepared to answer to that. And your real name might be useful as well, if you answer to it," I reply. Yes! Witty banter! Score one for Kathy!

"Jack Kelly. And, I'm going to guess that you're Kathleen," he says, juggling binders and sticking out a hand. I take it. It's rather large.

"How'd you know?"

"Well, for starters, you've got red hair, so you're probably Irish. And Kathyis short for Kathleen, which is an Irish name. So it was a lucky guess, I suppose."

"A lucky one, indeed."

"So, where you going?"

"Right here. Music. Vocal. It kind of sucks, but it's an easy credit."

"Hey, me too."

"Really?"

"Yeah, thanks to a lot of probing from Candace."

"Well, you'll be the first guy. Let me be the first to congratulate you."

"Um, I'm going to go to my locker," Dave interjects. "Jack, come with me!"

"Sure, Dave. You can show me my locker on the way," Jack says. "See you in a few, Elphie," he adds to me, winking.

"Yeah, you too, Yero," I say, still smiling like a madwoman. I wait until he's safely around the corner and sink onto the ground, sighing with happiness.

"So, how happy are you?" Danielle asks, with a smirk. It occurs to me that she observed this entire conversation without saying a word. I suddenly feel the urge to throw a parade in her honour.

"Did you not just hear the happy sigh? Let me replay it for you. _Siiiiggggghhhhhh,_" I say.

"I have to admit, that was some pretty smooth flirting," Danielle says, ignoring my sarcasm. "It was almost sickening."

"Yes, minus that earlier fluke when I almost drooled all over his shirt, I was good. But, really, what other reaction can be expected when a gorgeous guy serenades you with Wicked? And 'As Long As You're Mine', the most romantic song in the whole play, no less."

"Well, you should keep that in check for next time. Considering that conversation, it might be a regular occurrence."

"If it is, I think I might jump him. Or kidnap him and marry him. Dear God, I love that man."

"Who?" Shit. I forgot Jack was coming back.

"Joey McIntyre," I ad-lib quickly. I am on a _roll_ today, baby! Take me to Vegas, I'm on fire! "You know, only the best Fiyero there ever was."

"Ah, yes. Too bad I missed him. I would have loved to see him in it," Jack says, sitting down beside me.

"Really? I thought all guys hated him. You know, because he was in New Kids On The Block." Ha, I've got you there! Admit it! Admit that you secretly love me! Instead, Jack shrugs.

"What can I say? I'm a fan of many genres," he says. Damn it. That's plausible _and_ mature. I'll have to be _ultra_ sneaky.

"Ah, so you're a New Kids fan?"

"Well, not really a fan, but some of their stuff is okay."

"I find that very hard to believe."

"What? Guys can't like boys bands?"

"Nope. It's against the rules."

"Well, maybe the rules are stupid."

"Well, maybe _you're_ stupid."

"Well, maybe-"

"In case you haven't noticed, the bell just rang and neither of you have moved." I look up. I forgot Danielle was there. "So, you might want to go. Ms. Sanderson isn't the most fun when people are late." I nod and gather my stuff together.

"So, what's this Ms. Sanderson like?" Jack asks. "Does she play favourites? Does she have any likes? Dislikes? Anything to steer clear of?"

"Someone's a suck up," I say, putting the Wicked liner notes back in the case.

"Not a suck up, per se. I just like to know my audience."

"Well, one things for sure. She hates smokers," I say, tapping the cigarette pack in Jack's pocket. He takes it out and throws it in his backpack.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah. She hates when people are late. So let's go."

* * *

"That was the best class ever!" I squeal, running out of the music room.

"You're only saying that because you got to play Wicked," Jack says, following me.

"Well, duh. Why else?" I ask. "So, did you like my improvisational performance?"

"It was spectacular, darling. I especially enjoyed the part when you mimed flying away on your broom."

"Ah, yes, I believe it was some of my best work."

"So, what do you have next?" Jack asks, consulting his schedule.

"Ah, nothing with you, Kelly. I'm a lowly grade ten, remember? You're a mighty grade twelve."

"Well, yeah, but we had vocal together."

"It's not a big enough class to have separate classes for each grade, so they mix us all together. But I'll see you later. We usually meet in the atrium at lunch. See you then?" Jack nods.

"You got it, captain," he says, saluting. I salute back and watch him march off to his next class, gym, I believe, from what I saw on his schedule. God, he's perfect...OH! RIGHT! I have class now too! I speed walk to my locker and grab my binder for my next class, English.

When I get to class, Danielle is already seated, talking to Blink. Peh. Typical. Ever since David set them up, they've been practically attached at the hip. Oh well, at least there's still a spot for me to sit next to Dani. I slide in and open my binder to where I last left off: a detailed drawing of Galinda in her bubble. I pull out a pencil and begin to sketch as our teacher, Ms. Harris glides into the room, stack of papers in her arms.

"Alright, everyone, let's settle down," she shouts above the din. "Now, I marked your biographies over the weekend and I have to say there were some definite disappointments. So, let's go over-"

Ms. Harris is interrupted by a knock on the door. A kid near the back stands to open the door and it's the janitor.

"Excuse me, Ms. Harris, but I have a note here," he says in his frail old man voice. Ms. Harris takes it from him, scans the memo attached to the top and drops it on the desk Danielle and I share before returning to sentence structure. Confused, I pick up the note. The memo says nothing but "Confidential note for Kathleen Quinlan and Danielle Kempert" in neat, teacher scrawl. I unfold the paper attached to it.

_Red and Hollywood,_

_Important, girls only lunch today! We have some very serious issues to discuss. As always, meet in the atrium, if it isn't still populated with the clones. If it is...well, meet there anyway and accidentally-on-purpose step on their feet. Fun stuff! Anyway, I'm in a festive mood today. Taco Bell?_

_Moseph_

I laugh in disbelief. Michelle has class on the first floor and she managed to get the note all the way up to the third. That kid's insane. I pass the note to Danielle and she raises her eyebrows in disbelief. She turns in her seat, looks at the door the janitor just exited through and turns back, shaking her head.

English is pretty easy today and Danielle and I coast through it, making those little paper fortune tellers all period instead. Ms. Harris sees us, but doesn't say anything. In the end, I'm going to marry Jack, Peter Pan and Boq and Danielle is going to marry Blink, Ron Weasly and Fiyero. We leave English happily and go our separate ways to our lockers, mine on the second floor, hers on the third.

When I get down to the atrium, I see Michelle wedged between two parka-wearing, cell phone-using, skanky-dressing, too-much-makeup-wearing girls, looking _very_ uncomfortable. When she sees me, she makes a mad dash toward me.

"Thank God you're here!" she cries. "I swear, my IQ was dropping by the second!"

"It's okay, Mo, I'm here now. Now, how the hell did you manage to get that note to us?" Michelle smiles devilishly.

"Me and Janitor Carson are like this," she says, crossing her fingers.

"And what about that memo?" She shrugs.

"That was the easy part. Stole it off the secretary's desk when she wasn't looking. I told Carson that he could borrow my Rent soundtrack if he delivered the note to your room. He didn't even ask what was in it. I'll be Rentless for a week, but it was worth it."

"Michelle, you are an evil genius," I say. She smiles.

"I know. So you better watch your back. Think of what I could do to you if you backstab me," she says. Danielle shows up a second later, congratulating Michelle on her spectacular performance this morning as we head out the front door in the direction of Taco Bell.

"That whole Galinda-Boq thing was brilliant. I'm sure Dave has _no_ idea that you like him," she says sarcastically. Michelle shushes her.

"Shut up! You don't know who's listening!"

We're just rounding the corner when I see David, Blink and Jack inside Taco Bell through the glass window.

"Oh my, what could they be doing here?" Michelle says, feigning surprise. "Isn't that odd."

"Michelle, what's going on here?" I sigh.

"Nothing. I'm just as surprised as you are," she insists.

"Somehow, I'm not that surprised," I mutter. The guys have seen us already, so we head into the restaurant anyway.

"Hey guys!" Michelle says, waving at them. "Come on, let's sit together! Oh, look at that. The tables only come in twos. Well, I guess we'll just have to split up."

"You're really not that great an actress," I mutter.

"Well, I'll sit with Blink," Danielle says, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek. "The rest of you are on your own." They retreat to a corner of the restaurant and the rest of us avert our eyes.

"Well, I'm going to get something to drink. David! Why don't you come with me?" Michelle declares, dragging David out of his seat. "And look how that works out! Kathy, why don't you sit with Jack? You know, get to each other," I roll my eyes. She's so obvious it hurts. David, however, is confused as hell.

"But, Michelle, I'm eating my taco," he says, mouth full of cheese.

"No, you're not," she says, pulling him to the cash and leaving me and Jack alone.

"Well, that was an interesting performance," Jack says, chuckling. "Don't let her efforts go to waste. Sit." I reluctantly take David's seat. "So how was second period?" I shrug.

"Not bad. Easy class. What about you? How's the first day going?"

"Gym was pretty good. It's easy enough." There's a long pause. Jack picks at the empty wrapper in front of him. "Soo..."

"Yep..."

"So, you've got a pretty diverse group of friends," Jack says, reaching for conversation topics.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean, there's Michelle in grade nine, you, Danielle and Blink in ten and Dave eleven."

"That's just kind of how it's always been. Me and Danielle have been friends for forever and the two of us and Dave went to the same junior high. Dave was good friends with Blink, so he came into the mix, even more after he and Danielle started dating."

"And Michelle?"

"Her family and Dave's are good friends. We thought she was cute, so we adopted her."

"Aw, that's cute. Will you adopt me?" he asks, batting his eyes. I'll adopt you if you MARRY ME!

"That depends on if you can sustain my interest," I reply. "Entertain me, Jack Kelly." He takes a quick look around the nearly empty restaurant.

"I can't do the talk like the talk on the TV. And I can't do a love song like the way it's meant to be. I can't do everything, but I'll do anything for you. I can't do anything 'cept be in love with you," he sings quietly.

"Louder!" I interrupt.

"And all I do is miss you and the way we used to be! All I do is keep the beat, the bad company! All I do is kiss you through the bars of Orion! Elphie, I'd do the stars with you any time!" he sings louder. "See what I did there? Did ya?"

"Yep. Julie, Elphie, very clever."

"So am I adopted?"

"Sure, why not?" The silence is back.

"So, will _you_ sing for _me_?"

"Well, that depends. What would you like me to sing for you?"

"I'm in a Rent mood today."

"Don't breathe too deep! Don't think all day! Dive into work! Drive the other way! That drip of hurt! That pint of shame! Goes away, just play the gaaaaaaame!" I belt out. I decide to extend my audience and stand on my plastic chair.

"You're living in Ameeeeriiiicaaaa at the _start_ of the milleeenniiiuuuum! You're living in Ameeeeriiiicaaaa! Leave your conscience at the tone! When you're living in Ameeeeriiiicaaaa at the _start_ of the milleeenniiiuuuum you're what you own!" I finish with some dramatic jazz hands and bow for my audience. "Thank you, thank you! I'll be here all lunch period!"

"Fantastic. And the end/start of the millennium thing? Very nice."

"Ah, thank you. So, are you willing to reciprocate?"

We spend almost the entire lunch period singing various songs from all genres. We all leave the restaurant together around quarter after twelve. Michelle drags David up to the front to walk with her and Danielle and Blink fall into the back, doing God knows what. So, once again, it's just me and Jack. I pretend to be angry at Michelle, but really, I'm thanking her profusely. She's a bloody genius.

"So David says you used to go to Union," I begin, opening another conversation. I hate our awkward silences. In fact, I hate awkward silences in general. They're just so...silent. Good one, Kath.

"That's right."

"So why did you transfer?" Jack rolls his eyes.

"Oh, that. Well, I didn't really so much transfer as get expelled," he says, chuckling. I raise an eyebrow.

"Expelled?" I ask. "What for?"

"Punching a teacher," he says casually, as if people get expelled for punching teachers every day.

"So, why did you punch him?"

"He...IIIIII don't know if this is a good conversation topic," he says unsurely.

"Come on, tell me," I insist.

"Well, he was sort of creepy. Always checking our girls and stuff, staring at their cleavage. One day, he asked my girlfriend to stay after school," he says. My heart falls somewhere into my bowel region. Girlfriend? "To make a long story short, he put the moves on her. She came to my house after school in tears and the next day, I decked him." ...Girlfriend?

"Wow. So, did he get suspended?" I manage. Jack snorts.

"Nope. They weren't able to prove it," he replies. There's a brief silence. Ask him about his girlfriend. Ask him about his girlfriend. Ask him about his girlfriend.

"That sucks," I contribute. Good work genius. Now, ASK HIM ABOUT HIS GIRLFRIEND! "So, what about your girlfriend?"

"What about her?" I mentally slap my forehead. Men.

"Are you still together?" Jack shakes his head.

"We broke up. About a week after the 'incident'," he says. YES! YES! THANK YOU, GOD! THANK! YOU! GOD!

"Oh, that's too bad," I say, sounding more sincere than I feel. Jack shrugs.

"It was time. I always thought that she was really different from everyone else, but after I came here, I realized she's just another one of those-"

"Parka Bitches?"

"Um, well, I would have put it more politely, but yeah, Parka Bitches," he says, smiling. Alright, Kath, it's been going pretty good so far, keep up the conversation.

"How do you and David know each other?" I ask, just to keep talking to him. Jack smirks at this.

"Don't tell anyone, but...Pee Wee hockey," he says. I attempt to hold back my snort. Failure. It erupts from my nose. Ew. That sounded kind of gross...yet, oddly enough, kind of cool.

"Hey! Michelle!" I yell. Michelle turns around. "David and Jack played Pee Wee hockey!" Michelle cackles loudly and David turns around to glare at the both of us. Despite his earlier warning, Jack snorts with laughter. I turn around to spread the word to Danielle and Blink, but find that both their mouths are somewhat preoccupied.

We spend the entire walk back to school thinking of jokes to make at David's expense and by the time we get there, I'm almost positive Jack likes me. Exhibit A: witty banter. Exhibit B: meaningful eye contact. Exhibit C: constant smiling. True, it was often at David's expense, but both of us have been smiling all day. Exhibit D: he sang "Romeo and Juliet" for me. You just don't do that for someone you don't like, especially not in a public place. And finally, exhibit E: I really want him to.

I spend all of my last two classes(career studies and Spanish) doodling and daydreaming. I hardly notice when a Parka Bitch steps on my foot with her ugly Ugg-clad feet. I eagerly run to Dave's locker after the last class, praying that _he_'ll be there. He's not, but Dave is, so I stop and talk to him.

"Heya Dave!" I say happily.

"Hey. You're certainly chipper," he comments.

"You're surprised?"

"Well, no, but I thought it was a meaningful contribution."

"Sadly, it wasn't. But I'm just too happy to care."

"Yeah, you two certainly have sparks and, lucky enough for you, Jack's currently unattached," David says, shutting his locker and leaning against it. "Do you want a ride home?"

"Ah, thank ye, David the Good!" I say, skipping down the hallway.

We stop by Michelle's locker and Danielle's, where Blink is loitering, and head out to the parking lot where David's ancient car is parked in the furthest possible space.

"We aren't driving Jack?" I ask hopefully, praying that we are and Jack and I get wedged into the back together.

"Nah, he's getting a drive home with Becky," David says, searching through his bag. "Now, where did I put those keys..." I stop short.

"Becky? Becky Welch?" I squeak out. David nods.

"Yep. Jack has English with her. He's going over to her house for some extra help with his homework. He can't _quite_ master _Romeo and Juliet,_" David says absentmindedly. I heart beat slows. He's going over to Becky Welch's house to study _Romeo and Juliet?_! Um, hello?

"Oh my _God_, David, how could you not tell me this?" I demand, taking out my anger on poor, innocent David. I should really stop doing that...

"Tell you what?" David asks innocently.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe that Jack, the man that I'm _in love with_ went home with Becky Welch, that skanky whore, to study _Romeo and Juliet_, the most romantic play _ever_ after the first day? Did that slip your mind?" David, instead of bursting into tears, like I sort of expected him to, simply looks at me.

"Kath, calm down," he begins.

"CALM DOWN? HOW CAN I CALM DOWN?" I shout hysterically.

"I'm not _finished_ yet," David says. "Look, first of all, Jack may _look_ the part of a man whore, but he's definitely not. His girlfriend from Union was his first and only girlfriend. So, while I agree that Becky is a definite whore, Jack is not."

"But, David, I-"

"_Second of all_, I'm not completely deaf. I heard your conversation with him at lunch. He broke up with his girlfriend partly because she was a Parka Bitch. Becky's a Parka Bitch. After breaking up with one, you really think he'll be so eager to go out with another one?"

"Dave, he-"

"_Thirdly_, we both agreed that you two had chemistry. Jack's not going to just ignore that, because I'm positive not only did he get your signals, but he was feeling the same way."

"Well, why didn't you-"

"And _lastly_, you met him _today _for God's sake! Yes, you had chemistry and everything, but this sort of thing takes _time_ and he just got out of a relationship. Give him some breathing room!"

"Are you done now, David?" I ask when I get in a word.

"Yes, I think so," he says, finally breathing.

"Good. Can I have Jack's phone number?" David gives me a wry smile and takes out a pen to scribble it down on my hand.

* * *

The phone rings for the fifth time. _Pick up, God damn it._ Finally, God answers my prayers and Jack's voice clicks in.

"Hello?" he says smoothly. I love his voice. I think I'm going to die.

"Hey, Jack, it's Kathleen!" I begin brightly. "I was just wondering..." What was I wondering? Quick, Kath, think on your feet! "I was just wondering if we had any music homework?" Nice one. Insert sarcastic eye roll here.

"Kath? We listened to Wicked. All period long." That's a good point, Jack. Damn you, you hot bastard.

"Oh. Heh heh. Right. Well, I guess I'll-"

"Kathy, why'd you really call me?" Okay, so he's a fan of getting to the point. Now, do I tell him I called to see if he was playing tonsil hockey with Becky or something else?

"Uh, well, David told me that you went over to Becky's and I wanted to see if you were..."

"If she made the moves on me." DAMN IT!

"Well...yeah."

"Yeah, she did. I, personally, can not stand her. I only went with her because I needed a ride home and then I made up some excuse about having to feed my cat to get her to drive me home. I don't even have a cat." He snorts with laughter and I laugh along, while I'm saying silent thank yous in my head. I'd like to thank God, of course, for so many great opportunities. David, for being friends with that wonderful creature and bringing him into our group. Michelle, for forcing us together. Danielle and Blink, for being to preoccupied with each other's tongues to interrupt us. Jack's parents, for giving birth to that beautiful creature...

"Listen, Kathy, I wanted to say something," Jack says, interrupting my thank yous. My breath stops. Oh God, this is it. Oh God, oh God, oh God...

"Um, yeah?"

"Well, you've been really great today. You were really friendly and everything and the only person I knew was David. And I was kind of going through a crappy time, I so just wanted to say thanks for being a good friend." Oh...

"Oh. Well, that's no problem, really. Anyone who can sing Fiyero's part is a friend in my books."

"Yep..." There's a pause. Is he holding back the same thing _I_ am? I should just say it and get it over with.

"But...just friends?" Oh. Wow. I really did _not_ think I was going to do that.

"...What do you mean, just?" Okay, here it goes. Deep breath, Kath. Whatever you do, don't babble and DO NOT talk about how big his hands are!

"Okay, to be honest, I really like you. Like, as more than a friend. I've liked since, well the first time I saw you, waiting for the bus and I was really excited to see you at school. And I thought we had a connection. You know, we were talking a lot, we were flirting. You even sang upon request. Not a lot of guys would do that, Jack. So I thought, maybe, we had some chemistry. But if you just want to be friends, I'm okay with that." There's still silence on his end. Okay, so there was some babbling, but I didn't bring up his hands and that is by _far_ the most courageous thing I've ever done. "It would be nice if you said something," I add.

"Kath?

"Yeah?

"What are you doing next weekend?"

* * *

Whew, that was long! Alright, disclaimer time! I don't own Newsies. There's the main one out of the way. Alright, Kathleen owns herself, as does Danielle. I own Michelle, since it's me. I don't own Wicked either, nor do I own Rent. The song Jack sings in the beginning is, as said "As Long As You're Mine" from Wicked. The songs Jack and Kathy sing in Taco Bell are "Romeo and Juliet" by Dire Straits and "What You Own" from Rent. Hope you all enjoyed, especially you, Kath! Happy belated birthday!

newsiesmoseph


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